Little Pleasures
by valistus
Summary: When Quidditch is cancelled Draco is left to his own devices, which include a certain bushy-haired witch.


**Title:** Little Pleasures  
 **Prompt:** Quidditch is cancelled due to the rain, Head Boy Draco is irritated and decides to annoy Head Girl, Hermione  
 **Pairing(s):** Draco/Hermione  
 **Word Count:** 3,368  
 **Rating:** PG-13  
 **Warning(s):** Mild sexual themes  
 **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.  
 **Notes:** I just want to thank my lovely friend, Corazon for taking the time to read through and make the necessary corrections. I'm a bit nervous as this is my first time participating in a fest, but in any case, I hope you enjoy!  
 **Summary:** When Quidditch is cancelled Draco is left to his own devices, which include a certain bushy-haired witch.

Dark, heavy clouds gathered above head, looming over the quidditch field where various disappointed players stood. Sparks of lightning ran across the sky as the howling wind began to crash against any solid object in its way. Draco's broom rested lazily on his shoulder. His eyes crinkled against the harsh breeze. His frowned deepened as thunder tore through the once quiet atmosphere.

"No amount of glaring is going to stop the storm from coming, mate." Blaise stood to the side of his blonde friend as the words slipped through his mouth. The Italian quidditch player scanned their vicinity in hopes of finding a certain redhead nearby. She'd mentioned watching him practice earlier that day and now that those plans were cancelled he had other ideas that could constitute as a proper workout.

"Sod off, Blaise. I didn't ask for your commentary." Draco shot a scathing glare towards his friend as they began to make their way back into the school. "I'm surprised your master hasn't got you on a leash. Where is the bird anyway?"

As if on cue, Ginny shouted out Blaise's name. Her red locks danced around her as she jogged towards the duo. Blaise grinned, whatever comeback he'd prepared was now forgotten at the sight of the ginger girl. He opened an arm and she slipped right in, wrapping her own around his uniformed waist as they continued their trek towards dryer area.

"Merlin! They're saying it's going to be a big one." She chanced a look to the sky, only to gasp out in sudden surprise when a fat raindrop fell on her forehead. It slid between her eyes and down her nose. Blaise chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss on her temple while she dried her face with her sleeve.

The sight of the happy couple caused a foreign feeling to emerge within Draco. Before any day dreams of his bushy-haired Head Girl could emerge he scoffed, willing the thoughts away. "Please spare me your grotesque display of affection. Some of us have weak stomachs."

"Oh don't be such a git, Malfoy. I can think of someone you'd like to indulge in grotesque displays of affection with." Her smile was taunting and although Draco would've happily hexed the bird, he knew better than to inflict her rage on himself. Never mind Blaise, Ginny was absolutely terrifying when angered.

Grumbling a string of profanities under his breath, the trio made quick steps as the rain began to fall heavily on them. Shivers coursed through Draco's body when they were engulfed by the sudden warmth the castle offered. Long, elegant fingers ran through his now soaking hair in vain hopes of looking somewhat presentable.

Already tired of her wet clothes, Ginny flicked her wand and felt instantly better as her now dry robes soothed the cold she'd been subjected to. The witch turned to the males before her and repeated her movements. Blaise let out a sigh of relief and Draco muttered a thanks.

With the passing of days since the war, things began to settle down within the wizarding world. Hogwarts was vastly different from what it'd been when Draco and Blaise came in as little first years. It was rather odd at first, the inter-house unity that formed and it was stranger still that Slytherins were amongst those who sought unity. Draco often wondered if his house simply grew tired of the brainwashing and the expectations of blood purity. He remembered seeing so much blood during the war and it didn't matter who it came from—the blood that stained the floors were all the same shade of deep, burgundy red. And those who died lost the light in their eyes just the same.

Everyone perished in the end, regardless of blood status. It was during the war that Draco realized Death did not discriminate.

And neither did Blaise, the blonde wizard mused while he inadvertently witnessed the couple kissing. He groaned out, his free hand coming to cover his steely, grey eyes. "For Salazar's sake get a room. You two are abominably disgusting." His words were empty of any true distaste. The dislike he'd felt towards the woman seemed to dwindle down each day, finding her antagonizing attitude for any of Draco's shenanigans refreshing. Though admittedly, he was still weary of Ron, who'd chosen not to come back for his last year and instead began his Auror training just as Harry had.

An elegant brow rose as Blaise separated from a blushing Ginny. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pressed her against his side. "Stop being a bloody wanker. We both know why you're really so appalled about our public displays of affection. Jealousy is unbecoming on you, mate. There is no one stopping you from wooing Granger. Isn't that right, dove?" He looked down to his female counterpart who in turn nodded.

"Honestly Malfoy, I don't know why you two bother hiding it. It's quite obvious you fancy each other. There's an abundance of inter-house couples these days, you've really nothing to worry about."

She wasn't wrong, really. It was perfectly normal to see couples with clashing house emblems walk hand-in-hand. When Blaise confessed his thoughts on Ginny to Draco he'd just about fallen off his chair. The Italian young man was a skirt chaser. That was what he'd always been and Draco had a hard time believing the Slytherin's intentions with Ginny. But when he saw them together and how amorous his friend was with the chit, he wondered if he could hope for the same.

He, just like everyone else, could pursue anyone without worriment of Dark Lords. They were coming into a new age and although Draco knew he had nothing to worry about he still chose to ignore whatever tedious feelings the Head Girl caused within him.

"I believe I liked you more when I was on the receiving end of your wand rather than your laughable excuse of wisdom," Draco drawled, the faintest of smirks ghosting on his lips as he began to walk away from the couple.

Ginny did not hesitate to point her wand in his direction. Mischief danced in her lively, blue eyes and Blaise simply watched, a proud expression mapping out his features. "That can be arranged, ferret, fret not."

A rustling of parchment could be heard in the otherwise quiet common room. Hermione skimmed through her notes as she lay on her stomach before the crackling fire, her legs swinging absentmindedly over her backside. Ink-stained fingers moved to brush an insurgent lock away from her face.

Unbeknownst to the witch, Draco silently watched her from the door frame that led into their shared common room—one of the perks of being Head Boy & Girl. Irritation spread through the wizard's anatomy. He was annoyed with the rain, annoyed that he wasn't able to burn his frustration concerning her in the quidditch field. But most importantly, he was intensely peeved with the fact that he could not for the life of him shun this woman from his thoughts.

Yet there she was, laying comfortably on the floor without so much as a sparring thought at him! And how could she when she was so bloody engrossed in her work? How rich.

He would not stand it a moment longer. If he was drowning in irritation with his various circumstances then Draco would make sure he wouldn't suffer alone.

 _"Misery loves the company of another,"_ Draco mentally quipped, pausing for the briefest of moments in thought. Was that how the muggle saying went? "Never mind that," he huffed under his breath.

With a determined glint in his eye, and a faint smirk on his lips he grabbed a stack of parchment paper and made his way towards the couch closest to her. She mumbled a greeting as he laid down on the piece of furniture, accustomed to this position as they often studied together in similar fashions. Draco simply hummed out in response, fingers tapping meticulously against the stack that sat on his chest.

She had the loveliest legs, with beautifully curved calves that melted into her toned thighs. Her pleated skirt hid her backside with teasing modesty, hitching up ever so slightly with every swing of her leg. He wondered then how the calloused pads of his fingers would feel against her creamy limbs. Draco closed his eyes for a moment as the images bloomed within his mind's eye, a delicious shiver beginning to travel through him.

He grinned then, finding it a good a time as any to begin with his plans. Taking one piece of parchment and tearing it with deliberate slowness, silver eyes observed the faint tension that was building up between her shoulder blades. Her brows furrowed slightly as he continued his actions for a few minutes. Hermione ceased all movements, cinnamon eyes boring holes through her notes. Her nails dug into the skin of her palms in feeble hopes that the action would banish the annoyance that was simmering in the pit of her stomach.

 _"Maybe he's—,"_

Another tear resonated within the room and Hermione huffed, neck snapping back so that she could glare daggers at the blonde wizard. Draco in turn only offered a look of pure innocence. He was frozen in place, the rip stopping abruptly halfway through the parchment. His brows sprang up, waiting for Hermione to speak.

Instead, she cleared her throat and returned her attention to the notes she'd dropped between her two arms. Draco bit back an amused chuckle, a row of pearly, white teeth sinking into his bottom lip. He counted to ten in his head, continuing the murderous act of the now maimed parchment.

Hermione took a deep, shuddering breath. She clenched her eyes tightly together, teeth gritting as her jaw clenched. The witch would not allow him to upset her. She was better than that. She was—. As another tear infiltrated her ears she let out an aggravated scream. She was going to kill that idiotic ferret. Already she could picture her fingers gripping that pale neck. And my, how divine it would feel to press them against his skin so that he could bloody well shut up.

When she lifted herself into a sitting position on the floor, mindful of her skirt, Draco swore that the look she gave him was the equivalent to a killing curse. He blinked, one hand resting on his chest while his placed his other arm under his head as leverage, sheets of torn parchment falling to the carpeted floor a few inches from where Hermione sat. He linked his ankles together and stretched out further on the couch.

"Are you quite finished, Malfoy?" Her clipped tone birthed a faint grin on his lips.

"Granger?" His voice was laced with surprise, like he hadn't actually noticed her until she'd spoken. Mentally though, he thoroughly enjoyed the fiery rage that danced in her eyes and wondered if she was passionate in other areas.

She clicked her tongue and clenched her book tightly, leaning against the couch where Draco laid, legs stretched out before her. She could make out his grin from her peripheral vision and that look alone caused her grip to tighten on the edges of her text while her lips pursed tightly into a line. That little git, he was baiting her, she realized. With a determined glare directed at her book, she willed her breathing to a steadier pattern.

Silence washed over them again. Hermione's anger grew fleeting as her eyes skimmed over the written words. Draco watched her with curiosity. If he wanted, he could reach and run his fingers through the unruly locks. Though really, they weren't as unruly as when he'd first met her. Now, they cascaded elegantly off her shoulders in various shades of brown hues. His hand itched to stroke the strands of hairs and the notion alone only fueled his irritation for the bird.

Minutes passed and soon Hermione relaxed her shoulders, forgetting all about his previous actions. She failed to notice Draco lazily flick his wand. She'd also failed to notice the shreds of parchment glide up and dispel into tiny pieces that almost looked like snow. It wasn't until they began to fall on her that she realized what he was doing.

Anger bubbled within the girl. Her lip curled up into a snarl as she turned to shoot Draco another murderous glare. The bastard had the audacity to flash her a toothy smile, wand spinning between the tips of his fingers as the snow of parchment continued to fall on her. He was having far too much fun seeing her in such a frazzled state.

"If you do not cease these childish antics of yours I will not hesitate to separate you from your precious family jewels. I'd hate to think you'd be the last of the Malfoy line."

With the flick of his wand the mess that rested comically on her head vanished. Draco pondered her words for a moment. His silver eyes blinked lazily up at the high ceiling. With a bored sigh he looked down at her and said, "Dear Granger, I think not. I don't know why you think I should be inclined to adhere to your bossy notions. I quite enjoy seeing your hair stand from all the anger that's building up inside it."

"Listen to me, you loathsome little ferret–,"

Why did everyone insist on calling him a ferret? Were there no other insults that would better suit his intellectual level? He almost felt insulted for her lack of imagination.

Draco sighed dramatically, his forearm going to rest over his closed lids. "You wound me, Granger."

The motion caused Hermione to roll her own eyes. He was an infuriating prat and had no right to be so…so damn good-looking while ruining her study session. It wasn't fair! She already found herself a nervous wreck when around his proximity. Though admittedly, if she learned anything from the war, it was the ability to impede herself from showcasing any vulnerable emotions. Such traits were important for one to have under various circumstances, including this one.

A huff broke through her cupid's-bow lips. With one final frown dedicated to the blonde wizard, she lifted herself up and took hold of her book. Draco raised his forearm just enough to peek at her, finding her sitting on the couch opposite of him. She tucked her feet under her backside and promptly continued her futile efforts to study.

Just like before, Draco let a long stretch of silence ascend between the two. He was almost tempted to fall asleep. But he was a man on a mission, a mission to push his witch over the edge. Because although she was not officially his witch, today's conversation with Blaise and Ginny helped him realize what he'd been too stubborn to admit–he fancied Hermione. And he would be damned if he didn't help the stubborn bird realize she fancied him as well.

Malfoys always obtained what they desired most, and he was no exception to the rule.

Her chest rose and fell in rhythmic patterns. Draco noted that she chewed her lips when attempting to deepen her concentration on tasks. He grinned to himself, preparing for her reaction and silently hoping she wouldn't really castrate him. Taking a deep breath, he set his concentrated gaze on the young woman, his grin blooming into a smile when her hair turned into a platinum blonde much like his own. It was curious, how attractive the color looked on her. He wouldn't have minded her keeping it if he hadn't been so attached to her brown locks already. His fingers itched to run through her curls and it was becoming exponentially difficult to abstain from doing so. But this was a game and Draco would be damned by Voldemort himself if he gave in before her.

Gentle fingers brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. It was then that she noticed something odd in her peripheral vision. The book fell to the floor with a deep thud. Her shaky hand gripped the locks in terror. Brown eyes swirled with fright, growing wide like saucers.

Anger ripped through her chest. A screech rumbled through her throat and before Draco could say Hippogriff, Hermione pounced on him. Her small fists clenched his shirt as she pulled him towards her before pushing him into the couch repeatedly.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, you will not live to see tomorrow," she heaved, eyes narrowing dangerously.

Draco's hands pressed into her hips as soon as she'd jumped on him. Had it been under different circumstances, he would have very much liked to explore this position with her thoroughly. Instead, he gripped her wrists, a wondrous laugh breaking through the tension. Slowly, Hermione's locks began to turn into her normal shade of cinnamon. Unwilling to fight it any longer, Draco ran his fingers through them, smiling mostly to himself.

"So soft," he whispered.

Hermione's breaths came out raggedly. A soft blush stained her cheeks once she realized she was practically straddling the man. She quickly attempted to hop off him but Draco gripped her in place, a lazy smile mapping out his features.

"It'd be a shame not to make it to tomorrow," he drawled, eyes scanning every inch of her face before resting on her lips.

"Unhand me at once, you git!" Her resistance was halfhearted and as silence met her statement, she found herself curious with his words. Hermione huffed out, "And why would it be a shame? I fancy I'd be doing the wizarding world a favor, really."

Stubborn witch, he silently mused. His index finger went to trace the curve of her jaw and she in turn choked a gasp at the gesture. "It would be a shame, dear Granger, because I had half a mind to ask you out on a date."

Silence.

He'd expected a better reaction, instead she stilled above him and he hoped to Salazar she didn't move because if she did she would be met with someone that was _eager_ to meet her.

"Come again?" She blinked several times, her cheeks growing rosier by the second. She must have heard him wrong. Surely Draco Malfoy, Slytherin Prince did not just utter those words so casually.

"Don't be so obtuse, Granger. I fancy you and I reckon you fancy me as well."

A brown brow rose in question. Hermione fought off a smirk and noted Draco holding his breath in dread. She would make him suffer for just one more moment, she thought.

"Is that so?"

He huffed, grabbing her shoulders so that his lips could collide with hers. Fingers tangled in the mess of her curls as her own pressed against his chest. The kiss was cosmic; it felt like magic sizzling between their lips as his tongue delved into her mouth for a more prominent taste of her. Hermione nibbled on his lips, smiling against them before she broke the kiss.

Both sets of flesh now smiled at one another knowingly. Draco went to grab her hand, placing a gentle kiss on her wrist before clearing his throat.

"That's so."

Hermione grinned, and the gesture was filled with such cunning that Draco wondered what he'd missed. She kissed his lips in chaste, fingers dancing on his chest as she tilted her head to the side, taking his handsome features in. She'd have to thank Blaise and Ginny later for helping her conjure up a storm that effectively cancelled quidditch, and then there was the menial task of egging the blonde wizard on until he was irked with the displays of affection that would surely had made him want to admit his feelings to the clever witch.

Really, her plan had worked flawlessly. And her acting! Merlin! She deserved an award of some kind. Maybe one day she would let him in on her little secret, but today she would enjoy the feel of his lips on hers.

"Well, in that case Mr. Malfoy, I suppose you'll live to see tomorrow." Draco grinned cheekily, pulling her towards him for another kiss.

Malfoys always got what they wanted, indeed.


End file.
